SuperWhoLock: The Mysterious Jam Murders
by ttsuperwholock
Summary: Twelve people dead and counting... the Tenth Doctor, Donna, Jack, Sherlock, John, Dean, Sam, and Castiel must work together (sometimes that's very hard) to stop people dying... and why are they all covered in blueberry jam? Find out in my school project - the Mysterious Jam Murders!


**This is a story that I am writing for school, and for fun, and I don't really watch Supernatural (I don't watch Supernatural), so if I get stuff wrong, IT'S NOT MY FAULT! I literally don't know anything, except for the basic stuff off of Tumblr. Also, that's the same explanation for why Sam, Dean, and Cas probably have different personalities (again, I don't know!). I DON'T OWN SUPERWHOLOCK (awwww...). The title might be changed, but enjoy SuperWhoLock: The Jam Murders!**

* * *

Part 1: The Beginning

A tall man with curly black hair in a black Belstaff coat made his way out of a black door with gold lettering that said '221B'.

"Sherlock, wait!" an older, short man with short brown hair in a brown coat with too many pockets said, stepping out before the taller man, Sherlock Holmes, could close the door.

"Come along, John," Sherlock said in his deep voice, stepping into the back of a waiting taxi.

"I'm coming!" John Watson said, following Sherlock.

* * *

"Dean!" a tall man with medium long brown hair called. "Dean, come look at this!" he was staring at an article on his laptop. A slightly shorter man with short brown hair wearing a red plaid shirt and jeans stepped into the old motel room.

"What, Sam? Ghosts? Demons? Overdue library books?" Dean Winchester asked sarcastically.

"I don't know," Sam Winchester, the younger brother, said. "It's a very strange case,"

"What is it?" Dean asked again.

"Eleven people have died so far, and the only thing connecting the victims is…" Sam couldn't stifle his laughter any longer. He choked out a laugh before continuing the sentence. "Is the fact that they've all be covered in-" he laughed again. "In blueberry jam!"

"Stop joking around, Sam, and tell me the real case," Dean said.

"That is the real case! Eleven people are dead!" Sam exclaimed.

"Okay, fine, let's go, where is it?" Dean asked.

"Can you promise me we can go check it out?" Sam asked.

"Sure, fine," Dean said. "Now, where is it?"

"Well, you aren't going to like this," Sam said. "It's in London, England,"

"London?!" Dean exclaimed. "I am not going to London!"

"C'mon, Dean, you promised!" Sam used his puppy-dog eyes.

"No! I am not going on another plane!" Dean protested.

"Dean. You promised!" Sam insisted.

"No."

* * *

A tall, skinny man with spiky brown hair wearing a brown overcoat, brown pinstriped suit, white and red Converse shoes, and a red tie raced around the circular console, pushing buttons and flipping levers. A tall woman with red hair and hoop earrings wearing a brown raincoat, grey shirt, brown belt, and jeans.

"The Eye of Orion - the most tranquil place in the universe," the Time Lord named the Doctor said, turning to look at his traveling companion, Donna Noble. "What do you say?"

"Can you just pilot this thing to a place where we don't have to run away from aliens every five seconds?" Donna asked.

"The Eye of Orion," the Doctor repeated. "Allons-y!" he cried as he pulled down a large lever, sending the TARDIS hurtling through the Time Vortex.

* * *

Sherlock stood over the eleventh person to be murdered. He quickly deduced that she was in her early thirties, was married with one child, and was on her way to the movies. John, however, was questioning the husband and child, which proved far more useful than Sherlock's deductions. A tall, grey haired man in a black raincoat stood beside Sherlock.

"Anything new?" Detective Inspector Greg Lestrade asked.

"Anything of interest has been wiped away by the jam," Sherlock stated. The blue jam covered the entire victim from head to toe, and limited the amount of facts Sherlock could deduce from the body. Lestrade sighed.

"The media knows, of course, and if you can't solve it… well, people won't be very nice," Lestrade said.

"Since when did I care about what people thought about me?" Sherlock asked.

"Well, I care because if you haven't got a good reputation, and you continue to solve cases, Scotland Yard won't have a very good reputation either," Lestrade said.

"Oh." Sherlock said, trying to be a bit more considerate. The two stood in silence, the corpse lying before their feet.

"Donovan!" Lestrade turned away. "Get this body out of here," a tall woman with long curly black hair in a brown trench coat nodded and threw a sheet over the corpse.

* * *

Two and a half hours later, Sam and Dean were buckling their seatbelts on the plane to London, England.

"I can't believe you're making me do this," Dean grumbled. The puppy-dog eyes had gotten the best of him yet again, and Sam had convinced him that it wouldn't be too bad, and he could get pie in England.

"Dean, it's not that bad," Sam insisted.

"We are going to be flying over the ocean for seven freaking hours, it is that bad!" Dean said, gripping the armrest.

"Just go to sleep or something," Sam suggested. "Think about pie, and all the new kinds of pie you can eat in London," Dean gripped both armrests as the plane began to move.

"No turning back now," Dean muttered.

* * *

A Police Public Call Box materialized in a London alleyway with a sort of wheezing and groaning noise. The doors opened, and the Doctor and Donna stepped out.

"Well, the 'Eye of Orion' is looking a lot like London right about now," Donna said.

"This isn't where we're supposed to be!" the Doctor exclaimed. He pushed on the doors, but the TARDIS wouldn't let them back in. "Oh, come on!"

"Why are we here, Doctor?" Donna asked.

"I don't know, and the TARDIS won't let us leave, so I guess we're stuck in London for the time being," the Doctor said. "Let's go, then! Allons-y!" the Doctor dashed out into the busy street.

"Doctor, wait!"

* * *

Seven hours later, the plane touched down in London, England.

"I am never doing that again," Dean said, happy to be back on the ground.

"Well, we do have to get back," Sam pointed out.

"Shhh! Now, I need pie," Dean said, looking around for a shop in which he may find pie.

"That place over there looks like it might sell pie," Sam pointed at a Tesco.

"Right," Dean set off for the Tesco. Sam saw a newspaper dated the previous day on the ground. He picked it up.

"'Eleven deaths stump police,'" Sam read. "'Mysterious 'jam murders' leaving detectives baffled,'" Sam ripped the article out of the newspaper and stuffed it in his pocket before following Dean into the Tesco.

* * *

The next day, Sherlock lay on his back on the sofa in 221B, his Belstaff hanging on the back of the door.

"Sherlock!" John ran into the room. "Lestrade just called, another person's dead," Sherlock jumped off the couch and grabbed his coat.

"Come along, John!"

* * *

"Donna," the Doctor said, flipping through a newspaper. "Take a look at this," Donna walked over to the Doctor.

"What is it?" Donna asked.

"Look at this," the Doctor held up the paper. "Twelve people have been murdered in the exact same fashion, and the latest was… just ten minutes ago! Allons-y!" the Doctor ran off down the street. Donna sighed, and followed him.

"You promised me we could have a relaxing trip!" Donna shouted.

* * *

Sam and Dean took a taxi from the hotel in which they were staying to the latest crime scene. The brothers were dressed up in suits, with their fake FBI badges in their pockets, and guns hidden in their jackets. The taxi pulled up to the crime scene, and Sam paid him in pounds that he had converted the previous night. The two exited the taxi, and it pulled away, leaving the duo close to the scene of the crime. The brothers fixed their suits, and walked over to the latest murder.

* * *

Sherlock stood over the latest victim, a married man in his fifties.

"It's exactly the same!" Sherlock exclaimed, frustrated. "There's nothing new!"

"Sherlock, there has to be something," Lestrade said.

"No! There isn't!" Sherlock exclaimed. "This-"

"Excuse me," a tall, long-haired brunet holding an FBI badge said, causing Sherlock, John, and Lestrade to turn around abruptly. "My name is Sam Forests, and this is my partner, Dean-"

"Fake," Sherlock interrupted. "FBI agents don't introduce themselves with their first names, and the callouses on your hand mark the use of weapons frequently, something which the FBI does not encourage, shall I go on?" Dean and Sam stood in awe.

"Um, no, you don't need to go on," Sam said sheepishly. He turned to his brother. "We need to tell him, don't we?" Sam whispered.

"No we don't," Dean whispered. "We can just leave,"

"I think this guy could get us captured and brought in pretty quickly," Sam whispered. "Just to be safe, we should tell him the truth."

"Fine," Dean whispered. Sam turned back to Sherlock.

"Alright, my name is Sam Winchester, and this is my brother, Dean Winchester," Sam said. "We hunt demons, ghosts, and anything inbetween,"

"You honestly expect me to believe that crazy story?" Sherlock raised his eyebrow.

"I knew I had seen you two before!" Lestrade exclaimed. "You're top on the FBI's most wanted list for over fifty murders in every state! I'm putting you two under arrest," Lestrade pulled out two pairs of handcuffs.

"You're making a mistake!" Sam protested as they were ushered into a police car. "We're trying to help!" his cries were cut off as an officer slammed the door.

"I think we've found our murderers," Lestrade said, as the police car.

I'm still not sure, Sherlock thought. This case is unlike anything I've ever seen.

* * *

The Doctor and Donna showed up at the crime scene just as a taxi carrying Sherlock and John pulled away. They made for the crime scene, but a woman with dark brown curly hair stopped them.

"Excuse me, you'll have to show me your credentials," she said, holding out her hand.

"Oh, I'm sorry. I'm Constable John Smith, and this is my assistant, Donna Noble," the Doctor pulled a blank badge out of his suit's inside pocket and showing it to the officer.

"So sorry, sir. I'm Sergeant Sally Donovan, sir. Come right in, sir," Sgt. Donovan said, moving the 'Do Not Cross' tape and handing him back the badge. Once they were inside, the Doctor turned to Donna.

"Psychic paper," he explained. "Shows them whatever I want them to see. Saves a lot of time,"

"Oh, excuse me, sir," Sgt. Donovan said, turning back to them. "I doubt you'll find anything of interest, sir. The freak's been here, and he doesn't miss anything, sir,"

"Who's the freak?" the Doctor asked. "Some sort of monster?"

"You could say that, sir. His name is Sherlock Holmes, sir. He lives at 221B Baker Street, if you want to question him, sir," Sgt. Donovan informed.

"Thank you, Donovan," the Doctor said. "I'm not going to be here long," the Doctor knelt down next to the corpse. He slid a small silver tube out of his inside suit pocket and, making sure that Donovan couldn't see the sonic screwdriver, scanned the body, a buzzing noise filling the Doctor's ears.

"Hmmm," the Doctor said.

"What?" Donna asked.

"This man was killed by psychic attack," the Doctor said.

"And what the heck does that mean?" Donna asked.

"Something attacked him through his mind, shutting down his brain, and leaving no trace," the Doctor explained.

"Then why is he covered in sticky stuff?" Donna asked. The Doctor stuck his finger into the sticky substance, and licked his finger. "Ew!"

"Jam," the Doctor said. "Blueberry jam,"

"Well, why would he be covered in blueberry jam?" Donna asked.

"I don't know," the Doctor said. "Let's go pay a visit to this 'Sherlock Holmes' fellow,"

* * *

Sam and Dean were thrown into a small jail cell, which they were going to be kept in until their trial.

"We really need to get out of here," Sam said.

"Yeah," Dean said. He turned his head upwards. "Hey, Cas, if you can hear me, we really need to get out of this cell!" with a flutter of wings, a man in a trench coat and tie appeared outside the cell door with the keys in his hand. Castiel, for that was the man's full name, unlocked the cell, letting Sam and Dean out.

"Now let's get out of here before the officers notice," Sam said, and the three ran back down the same hallway that they had been escorted down in handcuffs.

* * *

The Doctor and Donna arrived at 221B Baker Street by the same fashion in which they had arrived at the crime scene - by taxi. Donna paid the taxi driver again, as the Doctor never carried cash.

"You owe me about fourteen pounds," Donna said as they walked up to the door.

"Can I pay you back in free chocolate?" the Doctor asked.

"You've got yourself a deal," Donna agreed. The Doctor rapped on the door with his knuckles. An older blonde woman in a purple shirt answered the door. The Doctor showed her his psychic paper.

"Constables John Smith and Donna Noble," the Doctor started.

"Oh, I've been promoted, have I?" Donna whispered.

"Here to see a Mr. Sherlock Holmes," the Doctor finished, ignoring Donna's comment.

"Just wait here a moment," the woman, Mrs. Hudson, said, going to the bottom of the stairs. "Sherlock! There's a man and his partner here to see you!" she turned back to the Doctor and Donna. "You can go right up," Mrs. Hudson stepped aside, letting the Doctor and Donna inside, and shutting the door behind them.

* * *

It was John who let the Doctor and Donna in, as Sherlock was lying on his back on the couch.

"Constables John Smith and Donna Noble," the Doctor held up the psychic paper.

"John Watson, and this is Sherlock Holmes. Sherlock, get up!" John insisted. Sherlock sighed, and got up off the couch. Sherlock looked at the psychic paper.

"Why are you showing me a blank piece of paper?" Sherlock asked.

"No, it's a badge, see?" the Doctor waved the paper in Sherlock's face.

"No, it's blank," Sherlock insisted.

"Oh, you are a genius, aren't you?" the Doctor asked. "Psychic paper. Doesn't work on geniuses,"

"Sorry, what paper?" John interrupted. Sherlock hadn't stopped staring at the man.

"Psychic," the Doctor said. "Shows people whatever I want them to see," John was about to ask more, but Sherlock interrupted him.

"How old are you?" Sherlock asked.

"Sorry?" the Doctor asked.

"Your eyes are much too old for someone of your size," Sherlock said.

"I, um," the Doctor stuttered.

"Also, your dress sense is that of a man who doesn't quite know what people wear in this day and age, your 'psychic paper' is not of this earth, and your shoes are well worn from quite a lot of running, but you are much too skinny and weak for someone who does enough running to wear down a pair of shoes that is perfectly suited to their feet, so not a borrowed pair, need I continue?" Sherlock said. "Who are you?"

"I'm the Doctor," the Doctor admitted. "I'm a Time Lord from the planet Gallifrey, and this is my travelling companion, Donna,"  
"You're crazy," John said. "Aliens don't exist,"

"I can prove it," the Doctor said, grabbing John's hand and putting it on the right side of his chest.

"You have a heart. How is that proof?" John asked. The Doctor moved John's hand to the other side of his chest. John felt the same heartbeat, but it was filling the gaps in between the beats of the other heart. "What the heck?" removing his hand, he turned to Sherlock. "Sherlock, this man has two hearts!"

"So he has a cardiologic defect, that doesn't prove anything," Sherlock said.

"Two hearts, psychic paper, and a sonic screwdriver," the Doctor retrieved a small silver tube out of his inside pocket. He pointed it at a light, and pressed a button. The end was lit up with a blue light, and it buzzed loudly. The light flickered, and went out. The Doctor repeated the process, and the light flickered back on.

"A simple trick," Sherlock stated. "You cannot prove that you are an alien,"

"Oh yeah?" the Doctor asked, eager to defend his honour. "C'mon!" the Doctor turned and ran down the stairs.

"There's no harm in following him," Sherlock said. "He's probably going to show us his 'spaceship',"

* * *

About seven minutes later, the foursome arrived at the alleyway in which the TARDIS was parked.

"Here we are!" the Doctor said, running up to the Police Public Call Box. "The TARDIS!"

"You're mad," John said.

"Wait 'til you see the inside," the Doctor said, unlocking the door. "After you!" Donna was the first to go in, as she was familiar with the TARDIS. "Look, I'll go in, and you can follow if you'd like. I swear you'll believe me even if you only open the door," the Doctor said, and he entered the TARDIS.

"I don't think there's room in there for all of us in there," John said. Sherlock sighed, wanting to get this over with and prove 'the Doctor' wrong. He stepped towards the Police Box, and pushed open the door.

* * *

Sherlock stood in awe of the huge room inside. John stuck his head in, to see what Sherlock was looking at.

"Bloody heck…" John said. A steel walkway lead to a raised platform in the middle of the dome-shaped room. A large hexagonal console with a blue glowing cylinder going up to the ceiling was in the middle of the platform. Wires attached to the cylinder hung around the ceiling, and hexagonal lights in the walls lit the room. Large, coral-like branching metal pillars extended from the floor to the ceiling. A seat and some handrails also bordered the raised platform.

"That's impossible," Sherlock said, backing out of the doorway. He walked around the exterior of the TARDIS, his hand running along the walls. He reached the door again, and stepped inside, proceeding to do the same to the circular inside walls.

"It's bigger on the inside," John breathed.

"I love it when people say that!" the Doctor exclaimed. "Allons-y!" the Doctor raced around the TARDIS console, flipping levers and pushing buttons. He stopped for a second to bang a hammer on a bell, making a ding noise. He finally grabbed a large lever, and pulled it down. A rotor inside of the large blue cylinder began to move, and the TARDIS began to shake, nearly knocking John and Sherlock off their feet. "Grab onto something!"

* * *

Sam and Dean watched as the strange Police Box disappeared into thin air with a strange, ethereal wheezing and groaning noise.

"The heck is that?" Dean said.

"A TARDIS," Castiel's voice said. Dean turned to see Cas standing behind him.

"Jeez, Cas, can you give us some warning when you just decide to pop in?" Dean said.

"What's a TARDIS?" Sam asked. Cas turned to Sam.

"A TARDIS is a time travel machine created by an ancient race - the Time Lords," Cas explained.

"Time machine?" Sam asked.

"Yes," Cas confirmed.

"How did it just disappear?" Dean asked, deciding to join the conversation.

"Dematerialization circuit," Cas said.

"A what?" Sam asked.

"I'm not sure," Cas said.

"You seem to know a lot about these… TARDIS things," Dean said.  
"I knew somebody with a TARDIS once," Cas said. "His name was the Doctor,"

* * *

 _Nearly twenty five years ago…_

 _A man in a beige jacket with celery on the lapel, a white and red shirt, and red striped white pants. The Doctor… or at least what he looked like then._

 _"Come now, Castiel, we haven't got all day!" a younger Cas reached for another handhold on the rocky cliffside. His left hand slipped, but the Doctor reached out with inhuman reflexes and grabbed his hand as his feet left the cliff. Cas was dangling over the empty air, the ground far below, with only the Doctor stopping his fall._

 _"You keep forgetting that I can fly," Cas pointed out._

 _"I've lost too many companions," the Doctor said. "I never want to lose anyone again,"_

 _"I'll try not to get lost," Cas said sincerely. He found new footholds and handholds, and kept climbing. The Doctor reached the ledge that they were trying to get to before Cas. Cas grabbed the Doctor's outstretched hand and the Doctor pulled him up to the ledge._

 _"Um… why couldn't I have flown us up here?" Cas asked politely._

 _"Look," the Doctor said, gesturing to the huge steel doors. A symbol was scratched into the door:_

 **~)*~**

 _"Oh," Cas said. That was the symbol for a forcefield… if Castiel had tried to fly the Doctor and himself up the cliff, he would have been stopped, and the two would have fallen to their deaths. That was the same reason the Doctor hadn't flown the TARDIS up the cliff._

* * *

Castiel was brought back to reality by Dean shouting his name in his face.

"Sorry," Cas apologized. "Just an old memory,"

"So, how exactly do you know this… 'Doctor' guy?" Dean asked.

"I traveled with him temporarily," Cas explained. "He sometimes brings people along with him,"

"What exactly do you mean by 'traveled'?" Sam asked.

"I do not understand the question," Cas said.

"Alright then," Dean said. "So, how exactly could you find this 'Doctor'?"

"We need to go to Cardiff," Cas said, and with no explanation, put one hand on one of each brother's' shoulders, and teleported the three to Cardiff, Wales.

* * *

Cardiff, Wales - Torchwood Three

Captain Jack Harkness, immortal Time Agent, walked through the Torchwood Three Headquarters while singing along to one of his favourite songs - I Don't Care by Fall Out Boy.

"I don't care what you think, as long as it's about me," Jack sung. "The best of us can find happiness in mi-i-i-i-i-isery!" Suddenly, his old friend Castiel, along with two unfamiliar, tall men, appeared in the middle of the floor. Jack removed his earbuds, and turned to Castiel.

"Cas, old friend!" Jack exclaimed. "Haven't seen you in ages!" Jack wrapped his arms around Cas, who obviously didn't want to be hugged.

"Could you avoid doing that?" Cas asked politely.

"Sorry, Cassie, forgot you didn't like hugs," Jack stepped back. "Who are these fine gentlemen?" Jack winked.

"Stop, Jack," Cas said. "This is Dean Winchester, and his brother, Sam Winchester. Dean, Sam, this is Captain Jack Harkness,"

"You don't have to add the 'Captain'," Jack said. "But it sounds good, don't you think?" he winked again.

"Stop, Jack," Cas said. "Or this part of the story will have to be cut,"

"What?" Sam, Dean, and Jack said in unison.

"I didn't say anything," Cas said.

"No, you just said-" Cas cut Sam off.

"I didn't say anything," he repeated.

"Okay, Cas," Jack said. "Now, why exactly are you here?"

"We need to contact the Doctor," Cas explained.

"Oh, that's easy!" Jack dashed over to a computer. "I just have to do-" he pressed a couple buttons. "This!" he pulled a big lever, and the tube that harnessed the rift energy glowed so brightly that Sam and Dean had to cover their eyes. "Here we go!" the glow died down, and the computer began to static. Sam, Dean, and Cas gathered around the computer. The static stopped, and a man with messy brown hair that seemed to defy gravity and a woman with long red hair appeared on-screen.

"Jack!" the man exclaimed.

"Doctor!" Jack exclaimed. "Look who's here!" Jack moved to the side, letting Cas into the frame.

"Castiel!" the Doctor exclaimed. "I haven't seen you for five regenerations!"

"It has been a long time," Cas said.

"Who's this?" the woman asked.

"Donna, Castiel. Castiel, Donna," the Doctor said. "So, Cas, why've you contacted me?"

"People are dying, Doctor," Cas said. "All over London,"

"Oh," the Doctor said. "That,"

"What's this about people dying?" Jack asked.

"People are dying from psychic attack in London, and they're all covered in blueberry jam," the Doctor explained.

"Oh, those deaths!" Jack exclaimed. "I heard about them. I was actually heading down to London tomorrow to check it out,"

"I can come pick you up… now, actually," the Doctor said.

"Okay, Doc!" Jack said. He saluted the Doctor, who playfully saluted back with two fingers before disconnecting.

"Right, then, as soon as the Doctor gets here I can introduce you two formally," Jack said, turning to Sam and Dean.

"Okay," Sam said, not quite knowing what to say.

"Here he comes!" Jack exclaimed as the signature wheezing and groaning TARDIS noise filled the air, and a Police Public Call Box began to materialize. Sam and Dean, not quite knowing what to expect, stood in suspense, waiting for something to happen.


End file.
